Housebroken
by peroxidepest17
Summary: Rampant stupidity- Zoro snipes about how it’s all gone wrong.


**Title:** Housebroken  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Rating:** PG-13 (Some yaoi themes. Like you expected anything else)  
**Feedback:** (yes!)   
**Pairing:** ZoSan (I _like_ trainwrecks thankyouverymuch)   
**Summary:** Rampant stupidity- Zoro snipes about how it's all gone wrong.  
**A/N:** First One Piece fic. So I _suck_. But I was on a writing kick and had no real ideas and so I just settled for randomness and general bitching. Because it's fun to write characters when they're bitching. And Zoro so needs to bitch a little, because he's seriously too cool all the time. Apologies in advance for stupidity, pointlessness, sentence fragments, all round bad grammar, italics abuse, repetitiveness, and stupidity. Yes, that was stupidity twice. Because really, this is quite stupid. I'm so sorry. --;; I so need a beta. Also massive apologies for blatant and very silly OOCness. It has to be OOC cuz that's just the way I operate. Can't help it. --;;   
**Dedication:** To everyone who can _effectively_ write Zoro/Sanji. I love you people to _pieces_. It is a trainwreck pairing that steals my heart of hearts.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine… if it were, this show would probably be unfit for young children (by young I mean… under 17? XD). Yes, I am a pervert.   
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

It was times like these when Zoro wondered why he didn't just date women. 

He might as well have, the way things were going lately. 

His list of perks was very efficiently dwindling with each passing day. With a sort of wistful resignation he could almost imagine all the good things he'd rationalized out of this whole ordeal sprouting wings and flying out to sea while he was left to watch longingly after them, indignant and angry and with very, very clean hands. 

Because that was what he did now. He washed his hands. He didn't get to wear a shirt for a month straight without having to do laundry a few times in-between. He excused himself after he belched at the table and he pretty much completely stopped scratching himself on deck in the presence of the girls (at least, when they were watching). He went shopping whenever they had shore leave. He'd had to open _a can of peaches_ with one of his swords. He clipped his fingernails and toenails every two weeks, on the dot. 

And in the meantime, all his perks were floating out the window. 

When he'd decided that women didn't interest him, when he felt that none could spark his interest beyond the brief love-hate rivalry he'd shared with Kuina, he'd been a bit worried. It was normal, after all, for men to like women. No matter how stupid it appeared. 

But Zoro just hadn't found the ability within himself to really care that much about any of the women he encountered. 

Maybe it was because he'd never really encountered all that many. 

Being a pirate hunter and now a pirate, he found that he dealt primarily with men anyway. The women he _did_ encounter on the high seas were…well, half of them were completely cracked and the other half probably _should_ have been men. In either case, it seemed perfectly logical to Zoro that in his line of work, and in his particular mindset, that it was just more practical to prefer men. 

He'd even made a list of perks as to why it was better in the long run anyway. 

And among those perks were: not having to wash his hands before every meal, belching at the table, scratching himself _whenever he itched_, not being dragged to go shopping, avoiding domestic work, and biting his nails _if they got in the way of something important_. 

He had a few more perks on top of those on his list, but those were the ones he was losing with each passing minute, so in that respect, they were ones that really mattered right now. 

In short, what was important was the fact that he _was_ washing his hands, that he _was_ excusing himself, that he _wasn't_ scratching himself, that he _was_ going shopping, that he _was_ doing domestic work and that he _was well groomed_. 

It was really enough to drive any man crazy. 

But by his past reasoning, it was only supposed to drive men _who liked women_ crazy. 

He didn't fall under that category!! 

Which made him wonder why his hands were currently covered in vanilla scented soapy lather as he washed up for dinner. 

He growled to himself as he rinsed off, grabbing a hand towel and viciously drying them once he was done. 

This was all Sanji's fault. 

That damn love-cook… he might _as well_ have been a woman for all the trouble he made Zoro go through. 

That's right. 

It was all Sanji's fault!!! 

It was always, "Oi, dumbass, go wash your hands," or "Idiot, I'm not coming close to you when you smell like that," or "What do you say?" or "Asshole, don't do that in front of the ladies," or "I need you to come buy supplies and carry them back," or "Hey knife-boy, the can opener's broken," or a thousand other things that reminded Zoro that his perk list was getting its ass ruthlessly kicked and its face ground into the dirt. 

One could argue perhaps, that Zoro could just _not_ listen to Sanji. 

But he had a perfectly legitimate defense against that accusation. 

The thing was, no one _could_ blame Zoro for doing what Sanji told him to do. Because that wasn't his fault either. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to get out from under that tyrannical chef's hold before. He had. He'd launched a full fledged rebellion directly against that smug bastard. 

A few weeks ago, he'd very boldly declared right into Sanji's face, that he would wash his hands whenever he _damn well_ pleased. And the moment those words had left his mouth, he'd felt strong. Free. Like he could do anything in the world if we believed in himself. Like Sanji had _no control whatsoever_ over what he did or didn't do. 

Then… 

…Sanji cut him off for two weeks. 

_Two weeks_. 

Nothing. Not even a cursory "I'm having sex with you in my head" glance. 

Needless to say, that had prompted Zoro's… 

…unconditional surrender. 

For someone who boasted such a strong body, he discovered that despite manic amounts of training, it still had issues with willpower when it came to certain things. It was weak against sex, was what it was. 

Two weeks and he'd snapped. 

Sanji was a damn bastard who didn't fight fair. 

Cut _off_. For two weeks. 

Zoro may have been stubborn and indignant, but he wasn't stupid. 

Why would you willingly give up sex when you could have it? 

Plus, it was one of the perks that survived on his much dilapidated list. A big perk. 

And that was what he kept telling himself as he folded and replaced the hand towel in its rightful place after drying instead of having dried his hands on his shirt before blowing his nose into the towel in the first place, like any normal man would have done. 

Remember the sex. 

That's what he chanted like a mantra as he stomped up to the galley in clean clothes with cut _and filed_ fingertips. The smells of Sanji's latest culinary masterpiece wafted into his nostrils, causing his stomach to rumble its hunger in response to the stimulation. 

Just another reminder that his body was a slave to that damn love-cook. 

He pushed open the door and strode in moodily, now having worked himself into a fine snit. 

He used to be so badass. Roronoa Zoro, infamous pirate-hunter-turned-pirate (yes that was all part of the same title, thankyouverymuch).He was feared across the seas for his brilliant swordsmanship and almost psychotic determination. On top of that, he was part of the infamous Straw Hat crew- defeaters of many other fearsome pirates and brilliant evaders of stupid Marines. 

The point he was trying to make was, he used to be cool. 

And now, now he was… 

…housebroken. 

Completely and utterly housebroken. Domesticated. 

Like a cow. Or something similar that ate and slept a lot and got the thing between its legs pulled in return for a lifetime of docile servitude. 

Yeah, like a cow. 

Oh the indignity. 

"Oi… that's a terrible expression to bring to the table when I've been working so hard on dinner all day, asshole." 

Sanji's voice caused him to look up, giving him the last-second chance to yelp and dance out of the way of the blonde, narrowly avoiding the cook as he whizzed by, piling plates on the table and setting the silverware just-so in proportionate distance to the drink glasses and the bread basket. 

"Bastard, watch where you're going!" Zoro protested after regaining his balance and what was left of his dignity. 

Sanji looked at him evenly once the table was set to his satisfaction. "I'm sorry, did I _surprise_ the world famous swordsman?" the chef drawled in an overly innocent fashion that made Zoro grit his teeth a little. 

"_No_," he sniped back resentfully. 

Sanji said nothing. 

"Oh _shut up_," Zoro grumbled, glaring. 

The cook continued to look at him levelly before sighing. "You're such an idiot," he announced, a note of fondness in his voice that Zoro chose to ignore. 

Instead he continued with his snit and glowered. 

Sanji laughed. 

Not the effect he was going for. 

"You're such an _idiot_," the blonde repeated, leaning in to peck the corner of Zoro's mouth in what might have been a placating manner. 

"I hate you," Zoro muttered half-heartedly, though his traitor body moved his hands to rest on the cook's hips. 

"So you keep saying." 

The swordsman scowled again. "Yeah, I _am_ an idiot," he admitted moodily, moving in to try and steal a real kiss to remind himself why he let himself act like such an idiot in the first place. 

And to remind him why he was allowing his perk list to be shot to all hell. 

Mid-lean, the cook's annoying voice deterred him from his goal. "Go out and tell everyone that dinner's ready, would you? I don't want it to get cold while you try and steal some action." 

Zoro growled mightily. "Asshole." 

"_Thank you_," Sanji swooned, pouring on the sweetness just because he knew that annoyed the hell out of the other man. "Oh, and here…" he thrust a bag into Zoro's direction and jiggled it a little in front of his face, as if Zoro wouldn't have noticed it in his direct line of vision until he saw it moving. "Organic trash," the chef instructed, readopting his dry, normal tone. 

"_Hate_," Zoro snarled before grabbing the bag like it was an enemy's throat. 

"You are so moody sometimes," the cook sighed, removing his apron and folding it neatly. "Sometimes I wonder why I don't just go back to women." 

Zoro twitched. "I wonder the same about _myself_," he retaliated, somehow managing not to sound _too_ childish. 

Sanji laughed again, apparently in a rather good mood whenever Zoro seemed to be quite the opposite. Seeing the normally cool swordsman irked just…tickled him. "Idiot," he intoned again, not bothering to hide the tenderness in his address with any gruff illusions this time. Not when the world renowned, highly feared pirate Roronoa Zoro was acting so…cute. 

That's right. Cute. 

Sighing in fond exasperation, the blonde strode forward and caught the swordsman by the wrist before he was fully out the door, pulling him back and giving him the exact kind of kiss he'd been soliciting a few minutes ago. 

It was all Zoro could do to remember not to drop the trash while he was being turned around and thoroughly kissed, as it would surely disrupt the moment, and dammit, he needed a reminder every now and again of why he was _taking out the garbage_. Closing his eyes, he indulged in this rare moment of pre-dinner PDA, letting his free hand wander to the juncture of the blonde's throat and shoulder, running his thumb along the jut of his collarbone. Despite what a complete asshole Sanji could be, the man tasted good like this, mouth engaged in activities other than pissing Zoro off and tucked up against his chest where he fit _just right_. 

Another one of those perks on that list of his that was rapidly shrinking by the day. 

In the little things, anyway. 

"Oiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!! I smell food!!! Fooooood! Is food done?! Saaaaanji!!!!!!!!!!!! Feeeeeed meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

Luffy's screams from on deck effectively roused them apart, Sanji pushing back away from his place against the swordsman with eyes closed, cheeks tinged a very becoming shade of healthy-libido pink. After a second of regulating his breathing, he blinked his eyes open to look back up at Zoro. 

Zoro smiled in blatant self-satisfied smugness, devouring the effect he had on the chef's complexion and heart rate. 

"Mmmm… Zoro?" Sanji murmured, once he'd gathered enough air back into his lungs to speak coherently. 

Zoro's self-approved grin broadened at the blonde's affected tone. "Yeah?" 

This was definitely another one of those elusive perks, Sanji breathing deeply as he searched his muddled thoughts for whatever words he needed, eyes half hooded and skin aglow under Zoro's fingertips. 

It was one thing that when he looked at it, almost, _almost_ convinced the swordsman that when he let the cook tell him what to do it was because he was completely, utterly… 

"Don't forget to wash your hands after you dump that." 

…housebroken. 

Domesticated, even. 

Like a cow. 

The smug smile faded from his face, in its place, a scowl usually saved for only the most heinous of enemies upon hearing Sanji's words. "Hate you," the swordsman muttered, pulling back farther and using the back of his hand to wipe remnants of the blonde's spit from his bottom lip like it was poison rather than something he'd been sucking on rather eagerly just moments before. Clutching the trash back in a renewed death grip, he whirled around and stalked out of the galley. 

Sanji watched him leave with a secret, crooked smile, equal parts amused and endeared by the swordsman's half intelligible things about how his perk list was getting slaughtered by a no good, power mad love-cook whom he _hated_. 

"You too," the blonde murmured after him. 

Yeah, Sanji knew one when he heard one. 

**END**


End file.
